One Last Bit of Fun
by The Lime-Wielding Ninja
Summary: Fred and George are in a retirement home, and haven't had a proper laugh in a decade. And who knows when they're going to kick the bucket? So they decide to have one last bit of fun. Slight crackfic. I don't own. AU, Fred's not dead.
1. Chapter Zero Point Five

One Last Bit of Fun

Chapter 0.5

The medi-wizard kneeled down to Fred's level. "Hello Fred," she said in that horrible, aggravatingly slow and well enunciated voice so many people used around him, as though he were incapable of proper thought. "How are you feeling this morning? Are your legs bothering you as much today?" Fred started to say 'No, and would you stop that silly voice? You sound like a pansy.' But, of course, he couldn't resist someone who was obviously so gullible. "I'm not Fred. I'm George," he said, just as jovial as he'd been when he'd said the same line to his mother, even as when he'd tricked that poor sod of a reporter after he and George had retired and passed their joke shop on to the rest of the Weasley family. 'It ought to be fun to see them duke it out for the old place,' they'd thought. And it had amused them, for quite some time actually. But that's another story entirely.

The young medi-wizard looked a bit bewildered for a moment, but then looked over to the real George who was sitting in his wheelchair beside the fireplace in the lounge of _Flammel Heights_ (the retirement home), reading an ancient copy of the twenty-fourth _Martin Miggs_ comic book. He wheeled his chair around, putting the book in a pouch on the side of his chair. "Someone looking for me?" he asked, though he'd really been listening all along.

The medi-wizard launched into a small lecture on the many kinds of pills 'Fred' would have to take, and it had been a few minutes before George had the heart to tell her that he wasn't actually Fred, and that they'd been having a laugh. "Just couldn't resist the laugh, Miss," Fred chuckled as she stalked out of the room, quite bewildered.

"Wow, I haven't had a laugh like that in days, Fred," said George.

"So true, old twin, so true; I just hope it's not the last."

Had anyone been looking hard enough, they would have seen the shadow of a light bulb go off above the twins' heads.

"I'm pretty sure you're thinking what I'm thinking," said Fred with a wide grin identical to his counterpart's.

"You mean-bmfdb!" spluttered George. Fred had clamped his hand over his twin's mouth for a second.

"We have no clue who could be listening, so we need to be as quite as...something very quiet. We don't know who could be listening, and we really don't want that nosy nurse to find out, right?"

"So we just need to rely on telepathy, now," George answered.

"Right," said Fred plottingly. "Pure, twin-like telepathy."

_NEXT TIME, ON One Last Bit of Fun_: "Pass the matches, Fred."

* * *

**A/N: So, this was going to be a one-shot, but I was just like "There's so much I could do with this!" I'll probably write a bunch of stuff in installments, and when I'm done put it all in one thingy.**


	2. Chapter 1

One Last Bit of Fun

Chapter 1

"So...awesome," said the twins in unison. The rest of the residents at Flammel Heights had gone out for 'a day at the seaside, good for rheumatism, you know,' and so Fred and George had seized this opportunity to take over the dining room with diagrams, blueprints, lists and plans of all sorts.

"So, a recap of the first stage," George said, all business. "Next time our grandkids visit, which is in two days, we'll tell them to get our supplies. They'll be willing enough to take part, but won't want to know what's happening-"

"-out of concern for their own safety. But they might want to be there firsthand," Fred added, "so we should ask them to visit again on the day of. We don't know exactly when we'll be performing this prank, not only because of the possible availability or unavailability of the necessary products, but also for security reasons. We don't want anyone boycotting this because-"

"-they know when we're set to go. Alright," George finished. "So we know the entire layout of the first three floors now, right? Good. Pass the matches, Fred."

George struck a match. The flare momentarily lit the faces of the twins in an orange glow, until the match was dropped onto the many sheets of paper spread across the tables. The blaze soon caught and engulfed the papers, destroying all evidence of their scheming.

"Scourgify," Fred muttered once all their plans had been destroyed. "Reparo," he said to the scorched table. "Well done, George."

"You, too, Fred."

"Shall I do the honours?"

"Please, do."

Fred placed his wand to his temple and drew it back slowly, a wisp of silvery memory clinging to the end. He removed a tiny bottle from a pocket on the side of his wheelchair, dropped the memory inside, and George repeated the short process.

"Safe and sound," Fred chimed as he dropped the bottle into an inside pocket of his jumper.

.:. :.: .:.

"Grandpa George!" squealed a young, strawberry blonde girl as she sped through the doorway of her grandfather's apartment. She hugged her grandfather with enthusiasm.

"Hello, my darling Linda," George replied. "It's hard for me to believe how much you've grown since I last saw you."

"I'm almost four feet tall now, and I've grown four inches in two months,, and supposedly that's very tall for a seven-year-old," Linda rattled off before her sister and brother stepped into the room. The fifteen-year-old young lady, whose name was Janine, was a few inches shorter than her older brother, Charles, with a stocky build, suited for hard labour. Charles was of the same build, a bit darker and more even of skin tone than his sisters, who were both fair and freckled.

"Hey, Grandpa," said Janine as she delicately planted a kiss on each cheek.

'She's so much like her mother,' George thought as he looked at his eldest granddaughter. "Don't you look lovely today," he said aloud.

"You'd say that if I'd just walked through a hurricane, Grandpa," Janine retorted, smiling.

Chuckling, George now looked to Charles, his very serious grandson. At the age of 21 he was already working his way up in the Ministry of Transportation. He had the kind of humour that never showed on the surface. In fact, almost nothing showed on the surface, until you found the subtleties of his personality, and his ability to tell jokes with absolute deadpan. All you had to do was get to know the chap and then he was just fine. Today must have been an excellent day, because the very corner of his mouth was turned up, showing a dimple in his cheek. "Grandpa George," Charles said, a very slight showing of emotion in the words, representing for him the same amount of enthusiasm that Linda had shown outwardly.

"Charles," George grinned, shaking his hand. And that was probably all that was going to be said between the two of them.

"You kids help yourself to anything in the refrigerator," George said as he wheeled his chair into his bedroom. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Though George's room was a little cluttered, he had no trouble finding the list of objects and substances needed for the...well, no spoilers for you.

"So, Grandpa, what have you been up to lately?" Janine asked, once George had situated himself at the little circular table in his kitchenette.

"You certainly get to the point fast," George replied.

"And you don't Grandpa. Just tell us what you're planning."

"Tell, tell!" Linda giggled.

George ruffled her hair. "I'm sorry, sweetie; I can't let you guys in on this one. You can help, but I can't tell you guys how you'd be helping." He took the list out of his pocket along with a few galleons and handed it to Charles. "I'll need these things. Don't let your parents know about it, especially not your dad. You know what he's like when it comes to fun."

"Some of this'll be hard to get," Charles said, almost in a whisper. "Like pure oil of Shilp. It's possible, only difficult."

"So you'll do it?" George asked.

"Of course, Grandpa," Linda said, as though the answer had been obvious, and Janine couldn't help laughing.

Phase One: **Complete**

_Next time on __One Last Bit of Fun_: "I feel all evil geniusy."

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**A/N: So I unintentionally lied. This will not be done in instalments. Here's the next chapter. Sorry it was a little bit of a long wait.**

**A Shilp is a made up creature of mine. It looks a little like a horse, but it's got wool all over it like a sheep. The Shilp wool when woven is very light, and it breathes like Egyptian cotton. that's what Edna Mode used to sew Violets supersuit in The Incredibles, but I'm a little off topic.**

**Thank you to the reviewers of the previous pseudo-chapter!**


	3. Chapter 2

One Last Bit of Fun

Chapter 2

While the grandkids were a big help, some things Fred and George had to do on their own. Many owls had to be sent, some to Hogwarts and other schools, though some even had to be sent internationally. A grand amount of late nights were spent sneaking out of their separate rooms and picking the locks on the door to the dining room, where they planned to-

* * *

*BEEP!* _This message has been deemed by the Weasley twins to be top secret_.

**Password**: ************

**Incorrect**! _Security Breech_!

Error: System crash. Restart: **Y/N**

**Y

* * *

**

"So, I think we should be here," Fred stated in a whisper, pointing to an ancient, unused hallway depicted on the map of _Flammel Heights_, set up on the biggest table. "There would be enough room to set up the screens so we can watch the fun."

"Yeah," agreed George, "but this huge, old closet never gets used."

"That's because it's the morgue."

The grandfather clock by the west-facing window ticked and tocked. Ticked and tocked. Ticked and tocked.

"Okay that's a good reason not to use it. Flip the page, Fred."

Grinning with bemusement, Fred replied "Gladly, twin brother." Fred turned over the large map with his wand so that it now displayed the second floor of the sprawling main building, strictly for employees only.

"But that's always going to be occupied, the second floor," George complained. "And there's no elevator, only stairs. Stuck in these blasted chairs we can't get anywhere near the second floor."

Fred rubbed his wrinkled hands together in delight. "Abandoned corridor it is, then. Heeheehee. I feel all evil geniusy."

"Me too, Fred. Me too."

.:. :.: .:.

"Just levitate it, Jana. It's not all that hard."

"But Grandpa Fred, it's _such_ a big TV. And I'm only just learning to levitate chairs in school-"

Allow the scene to be set.

Imagine _Flammel Heights_. It is almost two-o-clock in the morning. Zoom in with your big camera lens to the courtyard, which backs onto the side of an ancient, unused hallway. You notice a disturbance in the blackness. Turn on your night-vision. You see a young lady, about third year in school, a wide-screen TV, and an open window, through which the teen is attempting to levitate the TV. The TV does not fit. Suddenly, sparks jump out of the window, and hit the TV. The TV seems to become even more wide, and much less tall. Now the TV fits through the window. The teen walks up to the window, leans through the window for a second, then dashes through the patterns of wavering shadows, made by the trees, disturbed by the wind. Everything is peaceful.

Until tomorrow.

_Next time, on __One Last Bit of Fun__: NO SPOILERS FOR YOU! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS THE BIG ONE!_

**A/N: I would like to thank WWT, both for the review, and getting me jump started on finishing this chapter. I decided to wait until the next chapter for the prank to begin, so that I can devote more time to that specific set of scenes. And I will need a lot of time...again. I'm sorry!  
**


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